The Poetry Corner

Inscriptions - Supposed To Be Found In And Near A Hermit's Cell, 1818 - II - Inscribed Upon A Rock

By William Wordsworth

Pause, Traveller! whosoe'er thou be Whom chance may lead to this retreat, Where silence yields reluctantly Even to the fleecy straggler's bleat; Give voice to what my hand shall trace, And fear not lest an idle sound Of words unsuited to the place Disturb its solitude profound. I saw this Rock, while vernal air Blew softly o'er the russet heath, Uphold a Monument as fair As church or abbey furnisheth. Unsullied did it meet the day, Like marble, white, like ether, pure; As if, beneath, some hero lay, Honoured with costliest sepulture. My fancy kindled as I gazed; And, ever as the sun shone forth, The flattered structure glistened, blazed, And seemed the proudest thing on earth. But frost had reared the gorgeous Pile Unsound as those which Fortune builds, To undermine with secret guile, Sapped by the very beam that gilds. And, while I gazed, with sudden shock Fell the whole Fabric to the ground; And naked left this dripping Rock, With shapeless ruin spread around!